AN: Another slightly random chapter. Only slightly. Yeah... Has anyone
noticed that 1) Stewart has vanished into thin air, and 2) Kerry reappeared
from being dead? Only my most loyal readers have pointed these things out.
Sorry, all you Stewart fans (if there are any...), but he's gone. For-ev-
er. Okay, the end.
Chapter 20
Switched: Isaac/ Courtney
Writer's Block
I guess being stuck in Courtney's body wasn't the worst thing ever. There was always...
No, wait, I take that back; this was the worst.
At least Jim was there. Most of the time. All of a sudden, he was spending a lot of his free time with Maya. I finally asked him about it on Tuesday of that tormented week.
"Dude, are you and Maya going out?"
He laughed. "You know how strange that sounded coming from Hick Girl?"
I scowled. "Just answer the question, Jimmy."
He shrugged. "Nah. Not officially, anyway."
I hummed in disbelief.
"Really! I haven't asked her out yet."
"Whatever."
BING!
We both jumped at the chime.
"Ohdeargoo," said Jim.
I patted my chest to make sure my heart was still beating. "What was that?"
"I think it was the computer..."
I looked over at the inactive console sitting on top of Courtney's desk. It was about the only thing visible under all the drawings, rough drafts, and other junk.
"Isn't it off?" I asked, looking at it.
"No, just asleep." Jim reached under the papers and found the mouse. He wiggled it a little, and the screen "woke up", turning from black to brilliant, minty green. I covered my face, yelling "My eyes! I'm blind!"
"Ack!" said Jim, falling backwards. "You think that screen could be any brighter?"
"Well," I said, "let's see." I went to Properties on the menu and selected Background. I searched through the colors, deciding that it couldn't. "Guess not."
"It's got to go, then." He changed it to black and stated that we could now see the icons.
One was flashing: the Mail image. The computer chimed again.
"Click that; I think it's what is binging," I said.
He complied, brining up the e-mail. The message was from someone I didn't recognize, one "HPgurl6007". I had no idea what that was. It was for Courtney, not for me from one of our switched friends. The subject was "The Importance of...", which had no meaning to me. I opened it.
"Dear Aly," it began.
"What's an Aly?" I asked.
"I think it's one of her screen names on some writing site," Jim replied.
I continued reading. "I am a faithful reader of yours that has noticed a decline in your progress. 'The Importance of...' hasn't been updated with a new chapter in three weeks. A few of your other readers appointed me to confront you with this problem. If it is a simple case of writer's block, please tell. If you cannot get a chance to write, we understand as well. Just please get a move on, as we want to see the further adventures of Lily! Sincerely, a concerned reader."
I blinked. "What's that supposed to mean? I new Courtney wrote stuff, but she has a following?"
"Apparently so. I've read some of her work, and it's pretty good," said Jim.
"Have you read this 'The Importance of...'?"
"No, I think it's new. Maybe we should forward this to her. She can figure it out."
I copied the message and pasted it onto a blank e-mail. Typing in Steph's address, I added a quick message to the top:
"hey u got this email and we were just tryin to figger it out. --sac and jim."
"That'll work," said Jim.
* * *
I was completely engrossed in an online story when something popped up from the tool bar. My train of thought was halted.
"Gah! What the...?"
It was a popup, but not advertisement. It said "You have 1 new message(s)" in blue script. Stephanie had mail. I clicked it.
It took me to an e-mail server and automatically logged in. The subject of the new mail was "To Hick Girl", and it was from my own e-mail address. I decided that it probably was from Isaac. I opened it.
Reading through the forwarded message, I sighed. In all the turmoil of the ruined Ruins trip (I know, bad pun), and now the "Big Switch", as it later became to be called, I hadn't had any time to work on anything. I couldn't get that thought train going in that direction.
Plus there was a seriously large block on that particular branch of track: a block that belonged to a writer.
I was stuck. I couldn't get the plot to pick up. I'd sit down and type something, but I'd find something wrong with it, and completely wipe it away.
I sent a reply e-mail to Isaac, just telling him that I had it taken care of. That was a lie, of course. I then went to my own e-mail and replied to HPgurl. I wrote that it was both reasons, lack of time and that pesky block. I also told her that this was no reason to get worked up. The e- mail made it seem like this story was her entire life. Knowing my readers, probably so.
I recognized her name. She had reviewed this story a few times. As one of my favorite readers, she left reviews that didn't just say "great story", but gave me tips, plot holes to fix, and actually critiqued.
I decided it was time to finish this chapter. I minimized the mail window and clicked the word processor. The disk with the beginnings of the episode was in my backpack. I slipped it into Stephanie's disk drive.
Suddenly, it hit me.
Literally.
"Pi-pi-pi-pi-chuu!"
Stephanie's Pichu flew through the air and smacked me in the head. I yelled as I fell out of the chair, accidentally clicking the mouse. Then, through a series of conveniently placed plot devices, the mouse, which had fallen off the pad and was hanging down, had its two buttons pushed several times.
I had landed on a stack of books, which flew off in different directions.
One hit the bed, which dropped a pillow. The cushion landed on "my" little brother Brennan's toy car, which was forced forward and into the dangling clicker.
Another book hit Pichu, who shot out a tiny Spark, which had skipped all the other coincidences placed in the bedroom and went straight into the mouse, which absorbed the impulse and thought it had been clicked.
The third book hit me in the arm, which flew up and...
Hit me in the face. That was it.
I almost died laughing. That was the strangest series of events I had ever seen, with the exceptions of giant ants and Kool-Aid pouches that killed selectively random people.
Breathe, Courtney, breathe.
Pichu climbed out from under the large volume and walked (or at least tried) up to me. Not in a straight line; more of zigzag.
I looked at where the computer had ended up. You'd think that, after all that, I would've been brought to something that might help me with ideas. But of course, our author has a bizarre sense of humor. So, all that had happened was that the cursor had hit File, then Print, and had started printing the blank page.
I cancelled it and got back to work.
Pichu jumped up on my shoulder and looked at me like it wanted to help. Looking at its face somehow jump-started my thought train.
I began to type.
Chapter 20
Switched: Isaac/ Courtney
Writer's Block
I guess being stuck in Courtney's body wasn't the worst thing ever. There was always...
No, wait, I take that back; this was the worst.
At least Jim was there. Most of the time. All of a sudden, he was spending a lot of his free time with Maya. I finally asked him about it on Tuesday of that tormented week.
"Dude, are you and Maya going out?"
He laughed. "You know how strange that sounded coming from Hick Girl?"
I scowled. "Just answer the question, Jimmy."
He shrugged. "Nah. Not officially, anyway."
I hummed in disbelief.
"Really! I haven't asked her out yet."
"Whatever."
BING!
We both jumped at the chime.
"Ohdeargoo," said Jim.
I patted my chest to make sure my heart was still beating. "What was that?"
"I think it was the computer..."
I looked over at the inactive console sitting on top of Courtney's desk. It was about the only thing visible under all the drawings, rough drafts, and other junk.
"Isn't it off?" I asked, looking at it.
"No, just asleep." Jim reached under the papers and found the mouse. He wiggled it a little, and the screen "woke up", turning from black to brilliant, minty green. I covered my face, yelling "My eyes! I'm blind!"
"Ack!" said Jim, falling backwards. "You think that screen could be any brighter?"
"Well," I said, "let's see." I went to Properties on the menu and selected Background. I searched through the colors, deciding that it couldn't. "Guess not."
"It's got to go, then." He changed it to black and stated that we could now see the icons.
One was flashing: the Mail image. The computer chimed again.
"Click that; I think it's what is binging," I said.
He complied, brining up the e-mail. The message was from someone I didn't recognize, one "HPgurl6007". I had no idea what that was. It was for Courtney, not for me from one of our switched friends. The subject was "The Importance of...", which had no meaning to me. I opened it.
"Dear Aly," it began.
"What's an Aly?" I asked.
"I think it's one of her screen names on some writing site," Jim replied.
I continued reading. "I am a faithful reader of yours that has noticed a decline in your progress. 'The Importance of...' hasn't been updated with a new chapter in three weeks. A few of your other readers appointed me to confront you with this problem. If it is a simple case of writer's block, please tell. If you cannot get a chance to write, we understand as well. Just please get a move on, as we want to see the further adventures of Lily! Sincerely, a concerned reader."
I blinked. "What's that supposed to mean? I new Courtney wrote stuff, but she has a following?"
"Apparently so. I've read some of her work, and it's pretty good," said Jim.
"Have you read this 'The Importance of...'?"
"No, I think it's new. Maybe we should forward this to her. She can figure it out."
I copied the message and pasted it onto a blank e-mail. Typing in Steph's address, I added a quick message to the top:
"hey u got this email and we were just tryin to figger it out. --sac and jim."
"That'll work," said Jim.
* * *
I was completely engrossed in an online story when something popped up from the tool bar. My train of thought was halted.
"Gah! What the...?"
It was a popup, but not advertisement. It said "You have 1 new message(s)" in blue script. Stephanie had mail. I clicked it.
It took me to an e-mail server and automatically logged in. The subject of the new mail was "To Hick Girl", and it was from my own e-mail address. I decided that it probably was from Isaac. I opened it.
Reading through the forwarded message, I sighed. In all the turmoil of the ruined Ruins trip (I know, bad pun), and now the "Big Switch", as it later became to be called, I hadn't had any time to work on anything. I couldn't get that thought train going in that direction.
Plus there was a seriously large block on that particular branch of track: a block that belonged to a writer.
I was stuck. I couldn't get the plot to pick up. I'd sit down and type something, but I'd find something wrong with it, and completely wipe it away.
I sent a reply e-mail to Isaac, just telling him that I had it taken care of. That was a lie, of course. I then went to my own e-mail and replied to HPgurl. I wrote that it was both reasons, lack of time and that pesky block. I also told her that this was no reason to get worked up. The e- mail made it seem like this story was her entire life. Knowing my readers, probably so.
I recognized her name. She had reviewed this story a few times. As one of my favorite readers, she left reviews that didn't just say "great story", but gave me tips, plot holes to fix, and actually critiqued.
I decided it was time to finish this chapter. I minimized the mail window and clicked the word processor. The disk with the beginnings of the episode was in my backpack. I slipped it into Stephanie's disk drive.
Suddenly, it hit me.
Literally.
"Pi-pi-pi-pi-chuu!"
Stephanie's Pichu flew through the air and smacked me in the head. I yelled as I fell out of the chair, accidentally clicking the mouse. Then, through a series of conveniently placed plot devices, the mouse, which had fallen off the pad and was hanging down, had its two buttons pushed several times.
I had landed on a stack of books, which flew off in different directions.
One hit the bed, which dropped a pillow. The cushion landed on "my" little brother Brennan's toy car, which was forced forward and into the dangling clicker.
Another book hit Pichu, who shot out a tiny Spark, which had skipped all the other coincidences placed in the bedroom and went straight into the mouse, which absorbed the impulse and thought it had been clicked.
The third book hit me in the arm, which flew up and...
Hit me in the face. That was it.
I almost died laughing. That was the strangest series of events I had ever seen, with the exceptions of giant ants and Kool-Aid pouches that killed selectively random people.
Breathe, Courtney, breathe.
Pichu climbed out from under the large volume and walked (or at least tried) up to me. Not in a straight line; more of zigzag.
I looked at where the computer had ended up. You'd think that, after all that, I would've been brought to something that might help me with ideas. But of course, our author has a bizarre sense of humor. So, all that had happened was that the cursor had hit File, then Print, and had started printing the blank page.
I cancelled it and got back to work.
Pichu jumped up on my shoulder and looked at me like it wanted to help. Looking at its face somehow jump-started my thought train.
I began to type.